Playing Games
by Ochiba Konpeki
Summary: Kenny whooped. "I get to be the doctor!" he called. Cartman immediately began to whine that HE wanted to be the doctor, but was quickly placated by the promise that he could be the head nurse. But then Stan also wanted to be a nurse, so by the time Kyle returned with a bag from his brother's closet, he was the only person left to be a patient. Smut, Stylenric, BDSM. All four. Yes.
1. Chapter 1-Playing Doctor

_Hi guys… I know it's been a while. I fell in love, almost lost my virginity, started high school… Now I'm lonely and single, but, lucky for you, horny. _

**Playing Docter**

Occasionally, very, very occasionally, it seemed as though there was simply nothing to be done. It was a unique sort of boredom that could only be wrought from much, much too much time spent together. Their games of pretend, bets, races, and other such things all took place outside, and it was raining. Kyle always got sick when he went out in the rain, so they stayed inside.

They'd played video games for a while, but the power went out, typical of thunderstorms like these. The crashing overhead had long since faded into background noise, unable to break the monotony. The flashes of light illuminated the room again and again in black and white. They didn't say a word. The only sounds to be heard were long sighs and the occasional rustling of paper from Kyle's book.

Kenny had had about enough of it. Spread eagle on Kyle's so, so soft bed, face shoved into the comforter, his voice sounded a bit more muffled than the norm as he said the first thing that popped into his demented little fourteen year old brain.

"Let's play doctor."

Silence, for a moment. Nothing but the rain on the roof in the darkness of Kyle's bedroom. No one moved. Cartman huffed from his position on the floor, not taking his eyes off the ceiling. Kyle merely continued to read. Seeing as how no one else would shake their lethargy long enough to respond, Stan took it upon himself to shoot the blond down. "That's stupid, Ken. Little kids play doctor. We're in high school now. Freshmen."

Kenny sighed, rolling over on his back and letting his hood fall off his head. "So? It could be fun. Didn't Ike go on a doctor kick last year? We could use his props."

Kyle rolled his eyes, finally glancing up from his book long enough to fix the hoodrat with an emerald look of disapproval. "What are you, five? Afterwards, why don't we play house? I can be the mommy, Stan can be the daddy, Cartman can be the creepy uncle, and you can be our adopted Chinese baby!" he suggested, sarcastic excitement dripping from every word. "And Creepy Uncle Cartman can molest you, and then Stan can commit suicide and I can run off and move to Russia, leaving an orphaned Chinese baby behind in America. Then you can grow up and track me down to tell me you murdered my brother in law, the creepy uncle."

The other three stared at the redhead, watching him color slightly at their scrutiny and wondering where the rant had come from. After a few tense seconds, though, he threw his hands in the air, shouting in exasperation, "Fine! Let's play doctor. I'll go get Ike's stuff." And with that, he shoved himself to his feet and stomped out of the room.

Kenny whooped. "I get to be the doctor!" he called. Cartman immediately began to whine that HE wanted to be the doctor, but was quickly placated by the promise that he could be the head nurse. But then Stan also wanted to be a nurse (probably sensing that the patient was gonna have a bad time), so by the time Kyle returned with a bag of half play stuff and half actual medical equipment from his brother's closet, he was the only person left to be a patient.

"Why couldn't Stan be the patient?" the redhead whined, pouting as he watched them empty the bag on the bed and start rifling through things. Kenny got the flashlight from the nightstand and pointed it at the pile. "I'm even Jewish," he continued a moment later. "I should be the doctor. Stan, you be the patient."

Stan shot his super-best a wide smile. "Imma psychiatrist!" he announced proudly, taking note of the medical supplies. There were two stethoscopes, a play one and a real one, three toy needles of varying degrees of realism. Forceps, tweezers, scissors, bandages, medical tape, thermometers both real and fake, some of those things they use to look in your ears and mouth, the things that check your blood pressure... Just a ton of stuff. There were even a couple of white lab coats, a clip board and a hospital gown.

Kenny squealed as he shrugged on the lab coat -it was a little small on him, given how tall he was- and Stan was quick to do the same. Cartman, however, picked up the hospital gown. He smirked. "Excuse me, sir." he said in his most professional tone, deepening his voice. "Mr. Broflovski, is it? The doctor will see you in just a moment. Could you put this on?"

He handed the blue material to the redhead, excepting to have it thrown back in his face. But Kyle merely sighed, an amused smirk on his lips. Kenny just seemed so excited, going through the equipment and bouncing like a child. "Fine." he relented easily, laughing at the bubbly blond who was clapping in excitement. "I'll humor you."

The other three filed out the door and closed it, barely able to contain their excitement. Kyle smiled to himself, happy to be making them happy, and stripped down to his boxers. He slipped on the gown, tied it in the back, sat on his bed next to the pile of supplies and called in a thick British accent, "Dr. McCormick, are you there?"

An awful German accent responded as the door was pushed open and the boys came back in. "I will see the patient!" He announced. Stan snorted at the voice.

"_Ihr Akzent ist schrecklich_." Cartman grumbled, but it didn't seem to shake the excitement of the group. The three contemplated their patient for a long moment.

"I haven't gotten a check-up in years." Kenny admitted after a long silence. "I just remember getting a sticker. Dr. Fatass, what do you propose we do first?"

So attracted to the idea of being in control, Cartman did little more than grumble under his breath at the name, glad that he had at least dropped the accent. "Um, Hm. First, what seems to be the problem, Mr. Jewrat?"

Kyle sighed, flopping back on his back and declaring pitifully, "I just feel so frail these days!" Dr. Cartman nodded sagely.

"Let's start by checking your heartbeat, Hm? Stan, why don't you start moving the supplies to that desk over there?" the brunette suggested after a pause. As Stan rushed to obey, with the help of Kenny, Cartman grabbed a stethoscope and pulled the gown towards himself a little to get at the teen's chest. He put the ends in his ears and listened carefully as he pressed the ring to Kyle's skin. The redhead gasped at the contact of cold metal but quickly relaxed again as he let Cartman listen to his heart.

The steady thrumming of his heart seemed normal enough. "Breathe in," he instructed. "Cough." Kyle did so, politely covering his mouth. Cartman pulled back, satisfied. "Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Jewrat." he informed his patient with a small smile. "Unless my assistant or the doctor would like to give their opinion?"

Kenny bounded over, leaving Stan to carry the last few items to the desk and set up the flashlight for optimal ambient lighting, a gigantic smile on his handsome tan face. "I wanna do it, too!" he announced, none of the professionalism Cartman had used. Likewise, where Cartman was careful not to touch him, Kenny laid his hands over Kyle's chest unabashedly, looking positively fascinated by what he was hearing. His eyes fell on Kyle's, sparkling blue, and Kyle couldn't help but melt a little at the awe and amazement they held.

"Your heart sounds strong." he murmured as he pulled back, still holding eye contact. Kyle shivered a little, but then something was being strapped tight around his arm and Cartman was checking his blood pressure while Stan asked him questions like, _'What's your relationship with your mother like?' _and_ 'Do you ever get anxious or upset for no reason?'_

Twenty minutes later, he had been psychoanalyzed and was receiving a 'shot' in the arm. He couldn't help but smile as Kenny spread a Band-Aid with Pokémon on it on the spot and Stan offered him a lollipop.

Cherry. He hated cherry. When the 'doctors' turned their backs to examine their supplies some more, he threw the candy away.

"We forgot to take his temperature!" Stan gasped. He picked up a long, slightly thicker than usual glass one with a blunt tip. "He could be dying of fever!" Kenny and Cartman gasped theatrically, and Kyle quickly pasted on his best frightened expression.

"Say _'Ahhhhh!'_" Kenny demanded playfully. Kyle parted his lips to oblige but quickly slammed them shut as the thermometer approached. The blond looked at him quizzically and then at the thermometer.

"That's a _rectal_ thermometer, dumbass!" he complained. "It's got a red tip." Kenny inspected the thermometer. It did, indeed, have a red tip... Suddenly, Kenny felt like he was on fire, throat dry, face and stomach hot.

He swallowed hard. His voice was a little rough when he spoke. "I guess you'll need to roll over on your stomach, then, huh?"

Everyone in the room froze, the words hanging over them like a rain cloud waiting to reign destruction upon the quartet. Something in Kyle told him he should just laugh it off, but there was a charge in the air that made his laughter fall flat, forced and choked. "Don't joke like that." he muttered, cringing back as Kenny approached him quickly.

"I mean it."

Something about his tone ignited a sudden desire in Kyle's chest-the desire to obey. It was foreign and heady and frightening. He shivered a little, hesitation written all over him and his uncertain eyes, and the moment seemed to stretch on and on.

Cartman's voice was higher than usual. "Y-you heard the doctor. Get on your hands and knees."

Overcome by some part of himself he had yet to encounter prior to this moment, protected by the sounds of the rain and the low lighting, Kyle did as he was told, the gown spreading out beneath him as took up the position he'd been told to, shivering in the cool air and exhaling shakily. Trying to bring the tone back to light and playful, he whispered, "Yes sir."

Kenny bit his lip, glancing at Cartman and Stan, who were staring at the pair in fascination. He gestured them forward with a jerk of the head and they, too, obeyed, approaching the side of the bed carefully. The blond was the first to climb onto the bed with him, kneeling in between Kyle's legs, but he was soon flanked by his nurses.

He passed the thermometer to Stan, who took it with trembling fingers, and reached up to tug down his patient's boxers. All four of them inhaled sharply, Kyle dropping his head. The three 'doctors' stared at Kyle's smooth thighs and ass, watching his ring clench and relax again and again in nervousness. Kenny reached down to rearrange himself in his pants, pretending not to notice as Stan and Cartman did the same on either side of him. He tossed his head to move his overlong hair out of his eyes.

Ken took up the most professional tone he could possibly muster. "Thermostat." he demanded, only to be met with snorts and giggles from the three teens around him. "_What_?!"

"It's called a thermometer, Dr. Dumbass." Stan chuckled, handing Dr. Dumbass the 'thermostat'. Kenny rolled his eyes, turning back to his silently laughing patient and placing his hand on his pale lower back, feeling the ridges of his spine beneath his fingers. He leveled the glass rod with Kyle's entrance and carefully prodded at it. Predictably, the redhead jerked but quickly fell still, seemingly accepting his fate.

The patient let out a low keening noise and tensed all over as the cool glass was slowly pushed into him. Kenny didn't relent until there was barely an inch left sticking out, watching in fascination as the muscles of Kyle's rectum spasmed.

"H-hand me my chart while we're waiting." Kenny choked out, and after a long pause, Cartman moved to grab the clip board to give to the doctor. Kenny pretending to study it for a minute, making an occasional 'Hm' sound, until he finally tossed it aside with a clatter and haltingly informed his patient, "It... It would appear, Mr. Broflovski... It would appear that you're, uhm... Over-overdue for a pr-prostate exam."

Kyle audibly squeaked, dropping to his elbows and inadvertently shoving his ass farther in the air, all so that he could chew his nails. Anxiety threatened to overcome him as he squirmed under his three best friends' gazes until he finally managed to strangle one word from his throat-"Okay."

Kenny just _barely _bit back a groan. "Gloves." he ordered, directed as Stan. "Cartman, find some lotion." They did as told, and within moments Kenny was slowly removing the thermometer to be set on the nightstand and was eagerly pulling on latex gloves.

Kyle didn't jerk this time as Kenny slowly caressed the opening he'd just violated with a thermometer. He pulled his hand back, squeezed some fruity-smelling hand lotion onto his fingers, and, before he could talk himself out of it, shoved a digit into the patient's tight, hot ass.

Kyle gasped. Kenny bit his lip and Stan outright moaned, gaining a heavy-lidded, smoldering look from the brunette.

There was a fumbling moment in which Kenny tried to recall his seventh grade health class, but goddamn it, he'd gotten a low C in that class... He twisted his fingers and hooked them, and sure enough, Kyle practically screamed, collapsing onto his chest with his violated ass in the air. He shook for a moment. Without a doubt, it was the single hottest thing any of them had ever seen and all three toyed with the idea of taking out their erections as Kyle spread his legs a bit and grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, arousal just visible between his legs in the low light.

"Let me..." he trailed off, voice weak. "Just let me check for irregularities."

Kyle laughed breathlessly, muffled somewhat by the blanket he'd buried his face in. "Big word, Doctor." he teased lightly, but he quickly lost his wit as Kenny's latex-clad fingertip began to slowly rub his sweet spot, making him moan and tremble uncontrollably, an indescribably intense pleasure washing over him. He almost sobbed at it, clenching and unclenching his fists in the sheets. Kenny didn't relent, however, even as he slowly reached down to unbuckle his belt.

Within moments, Kenny had freed his cock, letting it proudly bounce out from the confines of his pants. Entirely without shame, he grabbed it and began to stroke, his low groans quickly blending in with Kyle's ecstatic cries.

Stan and Cartman exchanged a glance, seemingly holding a conversation with their eyes. After a moment, Stan nodded and Cartman inhaled shakily, both of them hesitantly following the doctor's example.

Kyle was lost, writhing and bucking and Kenny refused to relent. He was making sounds he'd never heard anyone make before, raw and harsh, and his boys were all moaning with him, and oh-oh my-

Kyle began to spasm uncontrollably, a scream tearing itself from his throat as he shot his load onto his sheets without so much as a finger laid on his cock. He collapsed, gasping, and Kenny bent over him, tugging his finger free and planting his hand on his back as he arched. Within a few moments he, too, was cumming, some of it landing on Kyle's leg and god, the entire thing was quite the sight.

Stan fought the urge to look up at Cartman as he sped up his wrist, feeling his balls tightening as his own orgasm approached. Before he could remind himself to move, he had cum over Kenny's lab coat and Cartman moaned as he did the same.

For one long, blissful moment, it was just panting and gasping and thunder. Then the power turned back on.

They cringed collectively at the light. When their eyes adjusted, though, what they'd done hit them like a freight train. Kenny and Kyle in particular were sweaty and smeared with cum, but the other two were no better, red and rumpled and hurriedly trying to tuck away their sex. Kenny pushed himself up with a groan as Cartman slid off the bed to stand facing away from them, hands in his hair, shoulders tensed.

Stan merely stared at his super-best with wide eyes as the poor redhead tried to recover from his first prostate orgasm. Kyle seemed to be struggling to push himself up but neither Kenny nor Stan could bring themselves to help. Eventually, though, he managed it on his own and tumbled off the bed, standing only to stumble on his jellied legs.

"I'm going to take a shower." he announced in a terribly small voice, not looking at any of them. "Clean everything up."

He was gone in an instant and a moment later, they heard the shower starting up. Kenny flopped over on his back, unaware of the soiled back, and sighed contently, shamelessly showing off his flaccid sex. He met Cartman's eye as he turned around and smirked. "Let's do that again." he proposed. No one seemed willing to argue.

_I'm really, really tempted to turn this into a BDSM foursome love/lust story. Thoughts?_

_**QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS? REVIEW!**_


	2. Chapter 2-Playing House

_So, here you go, sick freaks. I hope you enjoy this labor of love. _

**Playing House**

What killed him was that when he got back, warm from a _very_ thorough shower, he came back to fresh sheets, a neat room, two hesitantly smiling friends and one rival who very uncharacteristically refused to look up from his hands. The smilers, Kenny and Stan, sort of looked at each other awkwardly, then back to Kyle, who stood in the doorway to his room, soaking wet and in nothing but a towel.

It was Cartman who made the first move, slowly pushing his intimidating form to his feet and shuffling with a foreign uncertainty to Kyle's dresser, eyes down, aware he was being watched. He knew where everything was and he thought he knew what Kyle was most comfortable in, so he extracted the old, worn Inuyasha T-shirt from seventh grade with the hole in the sleeve, a pair of Stan's old Terrance and Phillip pajama pants and his 'lucky' blue boxers. Within a few seconds, they had been unceremoniously thrown at the Jew, and Cartman had returned to his place on the couch.

Kyle merely blinked at the oddly sweet gesture, crouching to pick up the crumpled pile at his feet. With a painfully formal nod, he turned and trotted a few feet down the hall to get dressed. Kenny visibly slumped as the redhead disappeared, guilt written all over his face, but no one seemed to be of much help, unable to offer reassurance.

After everything they'd gone through, could this really be what tore them apart?

"You guys stuck a fucking thermometer up my ass." The redhead had returned, and, a bit more confident now that he was clothed, stood hands on hips as he glared at the trio on the couch, emerald gaze simply smoldering. Cartman turned his head away, clasping his hands over his face and trembling ever-so-slightly, and for one awful, awful moment they thought he'd started to cry.

But then he threw his head back and exploded into bone deep, relieved, loud laughter, and they knew it'd eventually be okay.

OoO

The thing about teenage boys and sex is that once they get a taste, they become insatiable.

Late at night games of doctor became the norm, even after the quartet no longer had the house to themselves. Obviously, they couldn't keep taking Ike's stuff (he'd notice), so they improvised.

There was something very, very fun about violating their bookish friend with random objects until he came. Something fascinating about the emotions dancing across his face. Something intriguing about how easy it was to convince him that it was 'time for a check-up'. And goodness, Kyle was reveling in it. He took everything in stride, shy but very willing to please them. He didn't understand his newfound, deep set desire to be a 'good patient', but it was difficult not to embrace it.

_"Let's play doctor." _

The suggestion echoed around them almost every time they were all together. It was a group effort, molesting the little redhead, and it was a satisfying little ritual. It came with its own, unspoken little rules-no mouths (including for kissing), no penetration and absolutely no talking about it outside the bedroom.

It worked well for them. Maybe it would have just been a phase if not for Kenny's sense of adventure.

On this particular night, as was common during hockey season, the Broflovskis were out of town for a game. More space to relax, Kenny thought. He was right.

"Wanna play doctor, faggots?" Cartman never looked at them when he made the request, no matter how many times it was left up to him, and it was always laced with insults and a disgusted tone of voice, like he was only playing along because he had to.

Dr. Marsh, PhD, and Mr. Broflovski were quick to nod, setting aside their controllers and pausing the game of Halo on the screen without a second thought. But Kenny had another idea, one that had originally been suggested by their patient. "No, let's play house."

Something clenched in Kyle's stomach. He bit his lip, nervousness fluttering in his chest, but he didn't say a word in response. Stan, on the other hand, looked intrigued. "House?" he prompted, curious as to what the blond was getting at. Ken nodded excitedly, reaching for his beat up, hand-me-down backpack. The four sat in semi-awkward silence as he dug through the bundle of paper, clothes and duct tape to find whatever it was he was looking for. It was a little long to be comfortable before he announced, "Ah-ha!" and began to toss things into Cartman's lap.

A pacifier, a rag, an old-fashioned feather duster, a wooden spoon, a belt, an adult diaper and... A bag of campfire marshmallows?

"I'm gonna be the daddy." Kenny informed the other three. He glanced between the other two, taking in Stan's masculine, athletic build versus Cartman's extreme height and strength, covered by a cuddly layer of fat. Neither of them would make good mommies. Oh well, nuclear families are overrated. "Fatass, Stan, you can be the big brothers. Kyle, you be the baby."

Kyle's erection died a swift death. "I'm not wearing a goddamn diaper." he announced immediately. Kenny pouted, but was quick to shove the last two items back into his backpack, leaving the other three to wonder why the marshmallows had gone with the diaper. Marshmallows were fucking delicious, after all.

The blond stared at the items a minute, as though he hadn't considered _exactly_ what he wanted to do, but a moment later, he lit up. He leaned heavily into Stan to whisper in his ear, and that delightful clench in Kyle's stomach heralded the return of his hard-on. In seconds, they were on their feet, and Cartman was quick to follow, a dark sort of eagerness showing in the curve of his lips and the glint in his eye. Kyle found, in the moment before anyone moved, that he quite liked looking up at his boys.

But before he could entertain mentioning this to them, Stan had scooped him up, holding his to his chest like a small child. Kyle squeaked, a decidedly unmanly sound, but he was set down on the bed before he could properly form a protest. "Stay right there, Baby." the noirette demanded playfully, turning to leave the room along with the other two.

However ashamed he might have been, Kyle couldn't help admitting that he was really, really turned on. He squirmed in place on the bed, an innate fear of disobeying his super-best keeping him from moving, but, staring hard at the door beyond which his 'family' was no-doubt planning something fun, he couldn't help trailing his fingers across the bulge at the front of his jeans, shivering delightedly at the contact. It wasn't long, however, before the reopening of the door halted him.

Kenny pretended to be praising his 'sons' as they entered. "I can't believe you two both got straight A's, I'm so proud of you!" he gushed, throwing his arms around both of their shoulders and ruffling Cartman's hair. "My little boys are growing up so fast..." he sighed, eyes sparkling with mirth. He cast a sideways glance at Kyle as he finished with a slightly dark humor, "Why, Kyle, what are _your_ grades?"

The redhead bit his lip, unsure of what to say. He was never the best actor, but fortunately, he had a rival who _loved_ to throw him under the bus. "Daddy," Cartman sneered, winking at the blond, "I know! I know what Kyle got!"

Kenny eyed the redhead with great interest. "Oh? And what did he get?"

"He failed every class!"

The blond gasped, smacking his hands to either side of his face as he stared in shock at his 'baby'. "No son of mine will get F's in this house!" he scolded, stalking to the boy to lean over him as intimidatingly as possible. Stan punctuated the remark with a disappointed head shake, tsking all the while. Ken's voice dropped several octaves as he finished with a smirk he simply couldn't help, "Why don't you do your brothers' chores while you think about the spanking you're going to get later?"

To the surprise of everyone in the room, including himself, Kyle moaned out loud.

Tucking Little Eric up into his waistband with one hand, Cartman tossed the 'baby' his binkie, muttering a little shakily, "Tonight was my turn to do the dishes, so start with that," which Stan followed with something about dusting the pictures on the walls.

Cheeks red, erection raging, Kyle slowly put the pacifier in his mouth, chewing absently at the soft rubber. He stood and headed to go do his 'chores', snatching up the feather duster as he passed.

Twenty minutes later, though, it kind of wasn't fun anymore. His sleeves were wet from the dishes, and every time he told his 'daddy' that he was done dusting, the blond merely told him to do it again. Periodically, his 'brothers' would come out to taunt him about being forced to do chores and goddamn, his balls were starting to ache.

Kyle stomped indignantly into the kitchen, where he found his 'daddy' reading the newspaper with a coffee mug full of what appeared to be soda sitting on the table in front of him. He'd even found fake reading glasses somewhere, Kyle found as he lowered the paper.

Throwing the duster down on the table, quickly followed by the pacifier, Kyle stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at the teen who was making him do chores. "I'm _done_!" he snarled, loud enough that his 'brothers' filed in to watch the action only a moment later.

Kenny's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. He found he didn't like being disrespected like that, not at all. He set the paper down, stood so that he could look down on his son, and crossed his arms. "I don't like your tone of voice." he stated evenly, face an apathetic mask.

Kyle was pissed now. "I don't care!"

The two held a vicious staring contest. Stan began to fidget uncomfortably at how tense the air had become.

"Strip."

Kyle stepped back, surprised. "What?"

"Baby better strip and bend over the table or Baby is going to get in more trouble than he can handle." His voice alone made Kyle melt, a dull panic in the back of his head screaming for him to obey, and slowly, so, so slowly, he moved to take off his shirt, then his pants, his socks.

He hesitated at his boxers, coloring slightly even though the other three had seen him naked quite often as of late. "Eric," Kenny called, voice a little higher than usual, "Strip your brother and bend him over the table. Stan, go get Daddy's belt." The last phrase seemed odd coming from himself and not his father, but Ken pushed the notion away as Stan bounded off and Cartman advanced quickly on the 'baby'.

The brunette grabbed him roughly by the arm, yanking him into his chest. In seconds, Kyle's boxers were crumpled on the floor and the redhead, nude, blushing, and harder than he'd ever been in his life, was being lead to the table and pushed down over it, exposing his ass wantonly. Stan arrived at about this time and faltered a bit at the doorway, but quickly handed the blond the belt.

Kenny considered the beautiful situation at hand for a moment. He tossed the worn out leather belt to Cartman with a quiet demand for Baby's hands to be tied behind his back and took off for upstairs.

The redhead was shaking with how worked up and helpless he was by the time Ken returned, the wooden spoon and a small tub of Vaseline in hand. He approached his Baby directly, boldly trailing the spoon down the curve of his shaking spine. "Boys, how do you think we should punish our baby?" he asked of the other two teens. Stan piped up with the first thing to pop into his head, the punishment he got in elementary school.

"Five for each bad grade and ten for being disrespectful?" he offered, receiving a betrayed look from his super best as a reward.

"Thirty strikes?" Kenny wondered aloud, tapping the spoon teasingly against Baby's ass.

Kyle's nerdy instincts kicked in before he could stop himself. "Thirty-five, dumbass." he corrected, before instantly cringing at his own mistake. "I-I'm sorry-"

"Let's make it forty, Hm?" Kenny practically purred, raising his arm to strike. Jittery with nerves, Kyle straightened up, only to be shoved back down by his rival. He struggled not to panic, forcing his breathing to be slow and even. He clenched his eyes shut and tensed all over, waiting, waiting, waiting for the first strike...

It didn't come. A breathy sound escaped his lips as he felt something cool, hard and slick brushing against his entrance. A low moan sounded from deep in his chest as it slid inside, causing him shiver in delight. Something brushed against the crest of his buttocks as he reached the hilt, and, with a jolt, he realized the object was the feather duster. He blushed, aware of how silly he must have looked with feathers protruding from his asshole, but merely laid his head down on the cool wood of his kitchen table, accepting his fate.

This didn't stop him from calling out and thrashing as the first strike exploded across his left ass cheek, however. His instinctive attempts to get away were thwarted by Cartman's large, warm hands returning to his shoulder and lower back, this time to stay. A second strike hit its mark over the first and it felt quite like fire spreading over the pale skin of his ass. The next three came in quick succession, still over that same mark, and tears began to burn in his eyes.

The relief of his Daddy switching to the other side with the spoon was short lived. The pain from the new strikes added to the burn of the old was nearly unbearable and he began to struggle against the hold his 'brother' had on him, little desperate gasps shaking him as he tried to remember to breathe. He kicked out, but in seconds Stan was knelt to hold his ankles down and slightly apart.

He'd never felt so deliciously helpless in his entire life.

After what seemed like an hour but in reality was only a minute or two, Kyle heard the spoon being set upon the table. He nearly sobbed in relief that his punishment was over, sagging against the table, only to tense up again as his 'Daddy' spoke. "That was eighteen strikes, Baby. Don't think we aren't going to do the next twenty-two."

A small, whining noise sounded from his lips, red from being bitten, but Ken ignored him in favor of grabbing the feather duster by the neck, pulling it out and shoving it back in. His 'baby' jerked and cried out, suddenly aware that his erection, far from having died during his punishment, was dripping with precum, harder than ever. "Jerk off your brother, Stanley." Ken growled, not relenting at all in his attack on Baby's ass. The noirette obeyed immediately, letting go of his firm grip on Kyle's ankle in favor of a firm grip on his cock.

Kyle moaned and writhed at the pleasure and the helplessness and the heat and the sting of his buttocks and his balls drew up so hard it hurt and he was so close-so close...

"Stop." The feather duster stilled in his ass and Stan's hand dropped a moment later, back to Kyle's ankle. The redhead was seconds away from cumming and even closer to biting Kenny's head off. The pain of how close he was reduced his complaints to a single high-pitched wail, however, and Cartman's dark laughter drove him to silence.

He barely had time to brace himself before he was struck again. His knees buckled as white hot hurt flooded his nerve endings-it was somehow worse after his break, perhaps because of how extra sensitive he'd become at the edge of his orgasm. Another strike followed that one and the blond rested the spoon on his ass for a moment, as though considering something. "That's twenty." he murmured aloud. "Stanley, Daddy's wrist is getting tired..." he crooned. "Why don't you do the next ten?"

Stan bit his lip, nodding, and stood, taking the spoon from the blond, who knelt to take up the noirette's position and began to trail teasing kisses around the boy's hip and thigh. He stared at the bruises and welts forming on his super-best's cute little butt, and before he even knew what he was doing, he ran his hand over it, jostling the duster a bit and causing Kyle to sigh shakily. "Can I use my hands, Daddy?" he requested after a moment, receiving a short nod in return. He smiled, leaned down over the redhead and murmured in a low voice, "Count them for me."

He straightened, set a hand just below Cartman's on the base of his spine, and pulled back, hitting Kyle so hard he rocked forward on the table and howled. When no numbers were forthcoming, he pinched Baby's bright red ass cheek and reminded him firmly, "Count."

"O-one." the victim stuttered.

"Good boy."

By four, tears were openly streaming down the teen's face, but Stan was surprisingly stern and forceful about getting this done, and before Kyle knew it, he was choking out a strangled, "T-t-ten."

Kenny stood and Stan knelt, a very satisfied smile on his lips. The blond wasted no time in beginning to fuck the boy with the feather duster again, and Stan's hands were pumping his cock, and within seconds he was about to burst, but a hard smack to the side of his thigh shoved him back to the edge and he was left wanting again.

"Please..." Kyle whined. He was ignored in favor of Cartman being offered the last ten strikes.

The brunette was eager, too eager. And Kyle quickly discovered he hit harder than the other two, but he was ABSOLUTELY determined that his rival would not get any sound out of him, and apart from a few gasps, he was successful up until number seven, when Cartman accidentally caught the feather duster with a hit and he released a loud moan/scream hybrid. Eyes shut in his bliss, the brunette responded in kind with a guttural moan and halfway collapsed onto him, panting. The other three were confused for a moment.

Stan was the one who figured out what had happened, as Cartman straightened with a look of absolute horror on his face. "Did you just... Cum in your pants?"

The brunette's face went red. "Shut up!" he snarled, stomping huffing like a three year old as he turned to leave. "Screw you guys!"

Kyle giggled breathlessly, as did Kenny, but their laughter was quickly forgotten as the blond reminded him he had three lashes to go. He pouted, but Stan, who had stood to take up Cartman's original place, merely patted him on the head. But, and thank Moses, they were light and almost playful.

Kenny, for one, was almost as close to the edge as Kyle and was looking for any excuse to get off as fast as possible. Thinking quickly, he demanded of his Baby, "Kneel down."

As soon as Stan let him, Kyle stood, groaning a little at how good it felt to straighten up and at the shift of the duster inside him, and looked up at his super-best with tearful eyes. "My ass hurts." he whined. Stan smiled, blue eyes soft and adoring as he wiped away the wet tracks on the boy's face.

"Kneel." Stan urged him gently, letting the redhead lean against him slightly for support. It was a little awkward getting down without the use of his hands, but he managed it with minimal problem, moaning as the new position pushed the duster further inside him.

Kenny pet his head, scratching him behind the ear like a pet, and Kyle would have complained if not for how good it felt. "You were very, very good," he rumbled, sounding just a _little_ bit like he thought he was in a porno, "And I'm going to let you finally cum in just a minute." The redhead sighed at the prospect, but it wasn't quite as comforting a moment later, when Kenny's cock was in his face.

"O-oh." the redhead murmured, glancing quickly between the blond's face and his impressive manhood, a blush rising on his face as he seriously considered the pros and cons of saying no and wondering if he'd be spanked again. Kenny seemed to notice his discomfort, however.

"Don't worry Baby, just sit there and look pretty." he told the boy with a wink, gesturing for Stan to join him as he began to stroke his leaking cock furiously. He seemed to be fighting between closing his eyes in bliss and opening them to watch Kyle watch him. It was rather precious, the mix of nervousness and curiosity in his eyes.

Stan brushed up beside him, working himself a bit slower than Ken and fondling his balls, openly letting out soft moans and groans. Kenny's breathing became more and more labored as his strokes became erratic-he wasn't going to last long. "C-close your eyes." he warned as he reached the edge.

Stan watched in wonder as cum splattered across his best friend's pretty face, smearing his cheeks and dripping down to his chin. That was enough for him-he followed in seconds, finishing in spurts onto Kyle's chest.

Kyle's cheeks were red as could be by the time the boys gathered themselves enough to look at him. His eyes were pretty much forced closed, he was covered in other men's cum, he was still bound, and he couldn't say a word for fear of getting the tacky substance on his face in his mouth. After buckling his pants back up, Stan knelt down next to him, pulling off his shirt as he did so, and began to wipe his face and chest clean, smiling at the way the redhead shivered and squirmed at the contact to his over sensitive skin.

Once he was sure it was safe, Kyle blinked his beautiful green eyes open, looked as Stan, then at Kenny, and pleaded, "My turn now?" Cartman laughed from his place in the doorway, and the boys jumped, having not realized he had returned.

"Your turn now." Ken promised, patting him on the head. Stan stood and rounded behind Kyle to pick him up around the waist, setting him on his feet and contentedly holding him, resting his chin on his shoulder to look at Kenny.

To Kyle's shock, the blond dropped to his knees in front of him and grabbed his hips in his hands, leaning forward to kiss at the redhead's belly button. Kyle moaned. Part of him wanted to tell him not to, but a much bigger part of him was horny as fuck and weary of blue balls, so he didn't say a word. Stan reached down and grabbed the feather duster just as Kenny kissed the tip of his dick, causing Baby to cry out and breaking an important rule.

Stan began to fuck him with the handle again and Kenny was quick to take him halfway down, stroking the bottom confidently as he bobbed his head and within seconds Kyle began to jerk with his orgasm, seeing white as he exploded and his balls burned with the force of his orgasm, pumping what seemed to him to be at least a pint of cum down Kenny's throat.

He struggled to breathe as the blond pulled back with a_ pop_ and smirked up at him as he visibly swallowed. Kyle merely blinked down at him in shock, not moving as the feathery intruder was finally removed from his ass and he began to sway.

Luckily for him, Stan already had him and he was quickly picked up. He had no complaints-he was exhausted, drained from his ordeal. He was carried back up into his room and set down on the bed. At his half-asleep request, his boys dressed him in boxers and a t-shirt (fighting a little as they forced him to sit up) and climbed into bed with him, pushing and pulling at each other until everyone was comfortable and warm and pseudo cuddling, not quite willing to be mushy around each other.

They dozed for several long moments, and Kyle was very nearly asleep when Kenny finally spoke up.

"Will you wear a diaper next time?"

Kyle's answer was muffled by Cartman's side. "No."

OoO

_You know, I am a sub, but I'm not into age play or the doctor fantasy. I have no idea why this is being written. Anyway, next game (but not necessarily next chapter) will either be cops and robbers or cowboys and Indians. _

_I am now officially accepting requests to incorporate any kink or fantasy you want, or any children's game. Hard limits-no scat, no water sports, no bestiality, no necrophilia, no knife play, no electricity and no fire. These are actually my hard limits irl as well… _

_**QUESTIONS. COMMENTS, CONCERNS? REVIEW!**_


	3. Chapter 3-Playing Cards

_Hey guys. Life is not good right now. But I lost my virginity. I think you might see that a bit in this. Have fun. (chapter will be cleaned up later)_

**Playing Cards**

Nothing continues to work right after a friendship lasts too long. It folds in on itself, twists, loops, gets tied in knots-none of the games are played according to the rules on the box, everything has a double meaning, and inside jokes are so endless you could almost drown in them.

A rainy day like the one that started this new, sexually-charged chapter of their lives found the dysfunctional quartet standing in front of the Marsh game closet, no sound other than Shelley's One Direction CD blasting loudly from her bedroom upstairs and far-away thunder. It was difficult, with their additional rules, to find a game they all enjoyed. Monopoly, for example, meant push-ups, and Stan was very good at such things. Kyle and Cartman most certainly were not. Checkers and chess meant a lot of personal questions followed by a dare, and playing against Kyle was a nightmare. Loosing to Kenny was a death wish.

"... Cards?" Kyle suggested after a long pause.

"Strip poker." Kenny suggested immediately. A collective groan rose from the group. Old maid was suggested, then Go Fish. BS, Texas Hold'em, Black Jack, and Seven Card Rummy were all shot down as well. Someone suggested War. Someone agreed. A few minutes later, Kenny was dealing out the deck and no one actually wanted to play War, but no one said anything.

Their rules of War were simple. The winner of each round got to ask a question of the losers. The looser of a war had to do the Carmella Danson. It didn't take long for questions to start flying. Everything from "What's your favorite color?" to "How do you plan on surviving the apocalypse this December?" to "What's the weirdest dream you've ever had?" to "What's your dream car?"

A half hour later, Cartman was loosing and pouting like a three year old. Ace, three, six, four. Stan smirked as he scooped up the cards, pondering his question. "Hm..." he said aloud, as if it would help him reach a conclusion. He brightened and laughed at a private joke, pausing only a moment longer before he decided on his question. "If you could sex up anyone in the entire world, who would you pick?"

The other three pondered the question a moment, an endless stream of possibilities before them. Cartman was the first to speak up. "Can we do fictional characters?" Stan nodded quickly. "One of my own, then. Taylor is the shit."

A second question occurred to Stan, concerning Cartman's sexual orientation, unanswered the unisex name. But he let it slide, accepting he wouldn't get a straight answer-or a gay one for that matter. At length, Kyle finally supplied that he would pick an important historical figure and ask him or her questions during the act, earning him a shameful round of head shakes from his friends. "Linda Lovelace." Kenny responded after several long minutes of inner debate.

Kyle wrinkled his nose in distaste. He'd been caught watching porn when he was twelve and scolded at length, receiving several lectures on the evils of pornography and the degradation of women. He was not a fan, needless to say. King, two, six, King.

Kenny and Cartman eyed each other. "ONE, TWO, THREE, WAR!" A five and a six, in Cartman's favor. The blond stood, sighing reluctantly, eyes rolling at the grins his friends fixed on him. Brushing his goldenrod hair back from his eyes, he put his hands up by his ears, pasted on an exaggerated smile, and started rapid fire rocking his hips back and forth, clenching his hands in time. Kyle wolf-whistled, prompting applause from the other two.

Kenny was giggling by the time he plopped back down, folding his overlong legs beneath himself as gracefully as possible. The game resumed its rhythm quickly, questions going back and forth with a practiced rapidness, slowly becoming more and more risqué. "What's your favorite type of porn?" "What's your biggest fantasy?" "Do you remember your first wet dream?" Honestly, most of these things they knew already. It was hard to find questions to ask your best friends.

Four, seven, ten, eight. Kyle, who had only five cards left at this point, had won with the only high card he had. He considered his options for a moment, eyes on his hands, a nervousness clogging his throat. He cleared it once, twice. He set his cards down, and looked around the group seriously. "Let's talk about these games we've been playing."

The brunette snorted derisively. "What, War? It's fucking luck. Stupidest fucking game ever." The redhead fixed him with a viciously cold stare, green eyes sharp and dangerous, and while Cartman wasn't particularly intimidating, he fell silent.

Kenny, their unofficial ringleader in these games of sex and control, was the first to actually answer their redhead. "Well... What about them?" he ventured, uncertain and a little scared the games would soon be over if he said the wrong thing.

"Like..." Kyle sighed, frustrated, and glanced away. "What are we... Doing? What is this going to culminate in?" The group was silent for a few seconds, processing the question.

Stan made a strange noise, halfway between a hum and a gasp. His cheeks were coloring, and he looked just a tiny bit ill. "You mean, like... Sex?"

The quartet took a few minutes to stare in opposite directions, cheeks red, nervous and uncertain. At length, Kenny took in a deep breath, accepting that he would have to guide the group in this more than he already was. "I've had sex before." he offered, smirking slightly as several curious pairs of eyes fell on him. No comments were forthcoming, so he went on. "I lost my virginity to a college guy I met at a party. Last year."

"You're a fag?" Cartman sneered.

The blond shook his head shortly. "Pansexual. I feel love and sexual attraction to people unrestricted by gender, orientation, or appearance, basically."

The brunette sat back, nodding thoughtfully. He glanced over at Stan and muttered with a small cough, "I, uh, I've had sex too."

The redhead snorted in disbelief. "No you haven't, fatass, don't be a fucking liar. Who the hell would fuck you?"

Cartman fixed him with a deadpan stare. "Wendy Testaburger."

Stan went white. "What."

The neo-nazi wannabe had the decency to look sheepish. "She came on to me, I swear. I don't think you were together at the time, to be fair."

They watched in horrified silence as Stan alternated between red and white over and over again, eye twitching, fists clenching on his thighs. He took in a long breath and slowly look at his Super-Best, who patted him on the hand, and then to Cartman. "You fat sack of shit." he whispered, anger layered with what could only be described as deep respect radiating from his eyes and dripping from his tone. He seemed to be looking at the brunette through new eyes.

"Was it good?" he asked finally, indirectly letting the group know that he had not had sex with his longtime on again off again girlfriend of six years. Cartman considered this for a moment.

"Well... I mean, a fuck is a fuck. And she was a nasty bitch anyway. It was fucking hate sex. Hot but painful." he replied at length, reaching to pull his collar down to reveal a funny scar on his collarbone. "Bitch bit me."

Kenny bit his lip, sensing the conversation going downhill. "What about you, Kyle? Stan?" He looked between the two seriously, trying to impart on them that this was no laughing matter. They glanced at each other, unsure how much they wanted to share, but with a little nod from Kyle, Stan cleared his throat to speak.

"We're both virgins..." he supplied quietly, not ashamed but a little hesitant. Kenny nodded, careful not to let anything that might inflame anyone in the room show on his face.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence as the four teens stared at each other, their hands, the wall, not sure where to go from where they wanted to go from there. It was, once again, left up to the ring leader to keep the conversation going. "Look..." he sighed. "This thing we've been doing-" he gestured about the room- "is called BDSM. Bondage, Discipline, Dominance, Submission, SadoMasochism."

Cartman nodded in agreement, and all at once Kenny realized he hadn't been the only of them who'd embarked on this endeavor into deviancy a long time ago. Assured, his voice was stronger as he went on. "I'm a Dom, but I started out a sub. I guess you could call me a switch, but a prefer topping." Noting Kyle's look of confusion, he quickly explained, "Dom is short for Dominant. Sub is short for submissive."

Stan looked a bit disturbed. "Isn't this the stuff where they tie people up and whip them? Or, like, 50 Shades of Grey?" He looked a bit pale. Kenny shook his head, but Cartman was the one to respond, voice lower and more level than what could be possibly be considered typical for him.

"No. BDSM is a very personal thing. If you don't like whips, there are no whips. If you aren't into bondage, there's no bondage. For the record, 50 Shades is bullshit. BDSM is a consensual give and take of power, pleasure, and often pain." he explained, alternately fixing Stan and Kyle with a look edging on gentle. He wanted this to work, too. Kenny looked mildly impressed at his level of knowledge, but didn't know how to follow up on it. The brunette took the responsibility from him. "Kyle," he started, clasping his hands together and leaning towards the redhead as his voice lowered further, "You're a natural sub. That's not a bad thing and says nothing about who you are in your day to day life. I'm not saying you have to try out this lifestyle, I'm saying I genuinely, as someone who has hated you dearly for longer than I can remember, that you would enjoy it."

He turned his gaze to the noirette. "Stan, I think that this would be a good choice for you as well. You're very, very good at taking control of situations and people, and conversely, I think you'd take quickly to giving up control. You know po'boy's stance on this." He glanced towards the blond meaningfully. "And my take on it is that this is a dream come true. Until you understand this better, fags, this won't seem so amazing to you, but you are being presented with a perfect opportunity to safely explore a very isatisfying sexual life style."

Kyle's eyes were wide with panic as he stared at his longtime rival. Without thinking about it, he took the cards in his hand and threw them at the teen's face, recoiling. Cartman sputtered indignantly, his authoritative, calm persona shattered, and the redhead demanded shakily, "Act like Cartman, fatass!"

"Goddamn kike I am NOT FUCKING FAT." the brunette snarled dangerously, throwing his cards at the redhead in revenge. Despite the unforgivable language, the Jew seemed reassured by the violence. He sat back, stared around at the three of them contemplatively. Slowly, a smirk formed on his lips.

"Okay."

Kenny, who had been prepared for a long, tedious battle with the goody-two-shoes redhead, blinked, jaw going slack in his shock. "Okay?" he checked, sure that his ears had deceived him. The teen nodded, looking somewhat proud of himself.

"I... I need to loosen up." he explained shortly, cheeks coloring slightly. "And... I like this. What we've been doing. I don't want to over think this. It, uh, feels good, you know?"

They did know.

Stan looked hard at his super best, vaguely remembering picnics and play dates from the early days of their friendship. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, as he considered the proposition set before him, a foggy promise of deviant sex and more things like spankings and blow jobs. Thinking of the way it felt to hold the little Jew down while he struggled and made those intriguing, edging-on-whiny sounds, he finally gave an answer, nodding slowly. "If Kyle will, I will."

Cartman looked terribly pleased. Kenny winked at him before moving on to the next topic. "So." he started, making sure he had everyone's undivided attention. "One quick concept to share with you. SS&C."

The brunette hummed in agreement. "Safe, Sane and Consensual. One of two rules in BDSM. The other one," he continued quickly, before anyone could ask the obvious question, "is communication. You must." he paused dramatically, looking first Kyle, then Stan very seriously in the eye, "I repeat, you ~must talk to each other, Kenny and I about everything. If you don't like something, tell us. If you want to try something new, tell us. If you have needs that aren't being met, tell us. This is extremely important. Someone could get hurt if we don't keep constant communication, you guys."

"Safewords." Kenny blurted out suddenly. "I nearly forgot. Your safeword is exactly what it sounds like. You call it and everything stops. No one will be upset with you, always call it when you need to. We might come back to this, but for now, just remember. Red. Red, like a stop light. Say it back to me. Red."

"Red?"

"Red."

"Red."

Cartman hmm'd with approval. "Let's step away from BDSM for a second." he suggested, the same gentle tone from before leaking into his voice. He fixed his wide, mud-colored eyes on Stan's cerulean, then Kyle's emerald. "Gotta walk before you can run. You both need to lose your virginity before we can start on this seriously." He sat back with a tiny shrug. "That being said, there's no rush. If you don't feel prepared for sex, we can wait. You need a healthy relationship with your sexuality before we can start. Losing your v-card too soon will just make things more complicated."

"I'm okay with whenever." Stan threw out. He didn't so much as flinch when all eyes drew to him, merely smiling sheepishly. "I kind of want to top, though. If that's okay." He suddenly seemed the slightest bit shy, looking not unlike a small child asking for permission to go play. It was sweet, in a strange way.

Kenny's eyes slid to Kyle, who instantly tended up and shook his head. "I-I don't want my first time with another virgin." he stuttered. The noirette offered him a small grin as if to say, 'That's okay.'

"Can the lights be off?" Stan asked, looking up from his best friend to the more experienced half of the group. The blond and the brunette exchanged a rapid series of minute glances, shrugs and head shakes, ending with a conceding nod from the self-proclaimed neo-Nazi.

"Sure." Ken murmured with a grin, getting up on his knees and leaning across the forgotten cards to give the noirette a quick peck on the lips. "Are you okay with me being your first?"

Stan didn't hesitate to nod, touching his fingers to his lips absently. The blond broke into a wide smile. "Okay. What about you, Kyle?" he asked kindly, with a little wink. The redhead blushed, dropping his gaze to his hands.

Cartman eyed him carefully, seeing an opportunity open up. "I'll do it." he volunteered softly.

Heart in his throat, the Jew locked eyes with his lifelong rival. For the umpteenth time, the admittedly charming brunette's eyes were filled with a softness and earnestly that years of experience has told him means danger. But there was something off about it. There was the same pull to trust that there always was when Cartman tried his usual shenanigans, but layered beneath that was a tangible ~affection. It was disarming, to say the least, uncharacteristic. He found himself nodding before he could stop himself.

Cartman's lips stretched into his trademark Cheshire grin. "You wanna get him cleaned up?" he inquired, letting his voice drop a bit. His gaze was so fixed on Kyle that it took him a moment to realize he was addressing Kenny, who nodded vigorously as he stood, bouncing excitedly in place.

As the redhead was pulled to his feet by a perhaps overzealous hoodrat, something clicked with Stan. "Wait, now?" he asked sharply, a tinge of nervousness in his eyes.

Taking Kyle's hand and beginning to bodily drag him away, Kenny smirked, shrugged and jeered, "Why the hell not?" He paused, hand on the door. "Unless you're not cool with it." Stan shook his head bemusedly and the blond was gone in an instant, taking the Jew with him and slamming the door in his wake.

OoO

I sat precariously on the edge of the counter, watching Kenny fuss with the water. There were butterflies in my stomach and a bit of doubt in my heart, but my smile was wide enough to make my cheeks ache. Haha. Take that, "popular kids". You're doing the project due tomorrow because you procrastinated. I, on the other hand, am getting laid.

Kenny turned and, catching my grin, laughed, shaking his head. "You seem pleased." he purred, stepping up close enough that his hips brushed against my knees. I could feel my cheeks heat up a bit but continued to smile like a dumbass.

"I'm scared." I admitted. Ken laughed, stepped back to take off his shirt. He was unbuckling his belt before it hit the floor and before I could even blink he was naked, hands on hips before me. I'd seen him nude before, sure, but I still politely averted my gaze to the corner, feeling my blush strengthen.

I felt a pull at my shirt and obediently rose my arms to let him pull it over my head. "Nervous or scared?" he asked softly, rubbing my thighs through my pajama pants. I considered the question for a moment, shuddering at the tingle of his calloused hands across my abdomen as he played with the waist of my boxers.

"Nervous." I decided at last, receiving a relieved sigh in return. He leaned in and my eyes widened as his lips brushed across the corner of my mouth, warm and surprisingly soft. The blond centered himself more and pressed in closer, one hand falling on my hip and the other finding a home at the back of my neck. I let my eyes fall shut, just enjoying the warmth and the closeness and pushing back the practical side of me that was screaming in panic.

Ken pulled away and laughed boisterously as I flickered my eyes open, looking for a reason for him to be laughing. I didn't find one. He pulled me off the table and I cringed at the coldness of the tile.

"I'm glad. Nervous is normal, scared is a red flag." he told me, pulling at my remaining clothes and urging me into the shower. Stepping carefully over the edge of the tub, I reached out with my foot to check the temperature-it was pleasantly warm and I was quick to jump in and shamelessly hog the spray as Ken piled in after me. He didn't seem to mind my selfishness, just wrapping himself around me from behind and enjoying the warmth with me.

"It's going to hurt." he told me after a long silence, bending down a bit to nuzzle my neck. I swallowed harshly. I knew it was going to be painful, and I wasn't looking forward to it, to be honest. Rubbing my hips, he assured me, "We'll get you prepared, alright?"

I nodded and he patted me on the ass, earning an indignant look he promptly ignored in favor of surveying the various bottles to be found in my shower. He hmm'd in disapproval. "We'll use soap." he decided after a minute of inner deliberation. "But we'll get you something better to use soon, okay?"

I nodded as he grabbed a bottle of generic bodywash from the metal shelf, popping open the lid and squirting a general amount on his fingers. "Soap stings," he told me conversationally, smirking at my widening eyes as he moved his soapy fingers towards his behind, "But it makes you feel really clean, so I don't think it's too bad a choice for your first time."

Ken cringed, reaching for my shoulder and tensing all over. A breathy sound escaped his throat and I felt something brushing my thigh-his dick. All at once, it hit me that I was watching my best friend since diapers finger himself and I gasped, but was paid no mind as he began to rock back and forth rhythmically.

After perhaps a bit longer than necessary, and with a somewhat disappointed sounding groan, he pulled his fingers out of himself and sighed, leaning into me heavily. "I'm gonna fuck Stan." he giggled into my ear, and I couldn't help but snort at the absurdity of it all.

He straightened, shook himself as though to wake up, smirked and said something I knew was coming and was dreading-"Your turn, sweetheart."

I watched a little numbly as he lathered his fingers up again, drew me out of the stream and held me. It was much colder and I welcomed the proximity, even if feeling his erection so close to my own was disarming. His arm tightened around my waist-to keep me still?-and I jerked a little as his soaped-up fingertips slid over my entrance. I hid my face in his chest, grimacing at the pressure, then-

"Fuck!" I exclaimed. Ken had not been lying when he said it stung. I felt like my ass was on fire. I squirmed in discomfort, only to feel his grip tighten even more as he pushed his finger in deeper, only to be followed by a second. I trembled, clinging to my assailant as his digits slowly moved in and out of me, but the sting faded pretty quickly and I relaxed, melting into his arms as the pleasure washed over me, goosebumps raising over my arms and the back of my neck.

I only grimaced a bit as his scissored his fingers, continuing to move in and out of me steadily. I felt his lips on my forehead and then a third finger, causing me to whine a little in the back of my throat, but I didn't say anything. The stretch was kind of satisfying.

I sighed as he pulled out, achingly hard but unmotivated to do anything about it. "You're cute." Ken muttered, as though not to me but to himself. I hid my smile at the compliment, not entirely sure how to take it. "You think you're ready?" he inquired as he backed me under the spray.

My stomach clenched. I swallowed once, twice. Tried to force a smile. I must've managed a nod, because I received another hundred megawatt grin and the water was shut off.

I stepped out and Ken attacked me with a towel, rubbing vigorously at my arms, chest, legs, hair. I tried to shove him off but he merely snorted and continued with what he'd been doing, shamelessly violating my personal space. He scrubbed himself dry with the sand vigor, leading me to think for the millionth time that Kenny's enthusiasm to be doing whatever was one of his best qualities.

He pulled on his boxers and tossed me mine, seemingly appraising me as I got dressed. I looked up at him, hoping he would lead me back to the bedroom. I didn't think I could do it on my own. Ken drew me into his arms, resting his cheek on top of his head.

"Ready?" he asked again.

"As I'll ever be."

OoO

Kyle looked like he'd been struck by a severe case of vertigo by the time he rejoined Stan and I. It was admittedly adorable, how excited and nervous he looked, eyes wild, hands trembling ever so slightly as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

I'm going to tap that, I thought. My biggest fantasy since I was ten or eleven was about to come true. The Jew caught my eye and I offered him my practiced charming smile, pleased to see him smile back. I glanced to Kenny, who, nodding at me, shoved the redhead forward a bit. Kyle stumbled but caught himself, walking forward to stand in front of Stan and I.

The Super-bests shared a long look. Stan's lip quirked up into a crooked smile and he extended his fist to his other half, who bumped it with his own. As it fell back to his side, I reached to grab his wrist, catching his attention. I directed him to sit in my lap, hooking my arm under his knees and pulling him tightly to me. He was warm and bony, like how I'd imagined he'd be. We were eye-to-eye, close enough I could feel his breath on my face as we stared at each other. I didn't want to scare him off-I tilted my head to the side, slowly pressed my mouth to his.

Kyle tensed, then relaxed, resting his hand on my shoulder as he pushed back against me. I blinked in surprise as he began to move his lips on mine-messily, yes, but confidently. I liked it. More than I thought I might. I felt Stan shift beside me, glancing at him only to find the other half of our party going at it like nuts, hands everywhere, lips everywhere-I laughed into Kyle's mouth and he pulled back, looking at the origin of my amusement with a precious expression of derisiveness. Refocusing on me, he awkwardly got up onto his knees, straddling my lap and balancing himself with his hands on my shoulders.

I grabbed his ass and he squeaked, glaring down at me as I squeezed his bony ass, pressing him into my chest. I smirked up at him. "Ready for this?" I asked, reaching up for another kiss.

"Fuck yes." Stan moaned in response, averting my attention to the other pair again, only to find them almost naked and fondling each other wantonly.

Kyle giggled, covering his mouth with his the back of his palm. I braced an arm under his thighs and stood, spinning around to face the bed and delighting in the frightened squeal he gave as he clung to me, demanding I set him down. I obliged, laying him down pressed closely to his best friend, who was receiving an enthusiastic hand job from my best friend. I kissed his pulse point, running my hands over his warm, bare chest. He moaned quietly, the noise almost overpowered by the sounds coming from the pair next to us.

I wasn't sure how patient I could be. I groaned into his ear as I pressed my erection into his crotch, eliciting an interesting sound from the back of my Jew's throat. I was a moment away from giving in and dominating him-it took every bit of self control I had to let him writhe and buck under me as I touched and ground and bit and teased. I pulled his boxers off of him with a little awkward shifting and he spread his legs open readily, hooking his leg over Stan's, cheeks red and he looked up to me through heavy-lidded eyes.

I reached down for his leaking cock, playing with the head absently as I considered what I wanted to do next-Kenny answered the question for me, dropping a bottle of astroglide on Kyle's heaving chest. I looked over to the blond, starting to ask when he'd gotten up to get lube, only to find him fingering himself and shoving his tongue down the hippie's throat. Whatever, it didn't matter. I grabbed the bottle and popped it open, abandoning Kyle's cock in favor of letting some of the slick liquid drip onto my fingers.

I prodded at his entrance to test his reaction, unsure how well I'd take it if he couldn't handle it and I had to stop. Luckily for me, however, he merely moaned, tossing his head back and letting his eyes flutter shut. I smirked, watching interestedly as a myriad of expressions parading across his pretty face while I worked a finger into him. It was warm and tight-I was almost shaking with anticipation. I might've rushed a little with the preparation but my hands were trembling so badly I couldn't begin to try to take my time.

I pulled my fingers out and squirted a liberal amount of lube into my palm, pumping my cock and trying to watch Kyle's face and Kenny's cockteasing at once. The damn hoodrat was letting poor Stan rub the tip against his asshole but wouldn't let him inside. Ken winked at me and I realized he was waiting on us. Haha, brilliant.

One last kiss, as passionate and comforting as I could manage. Straightening, I grabbed the base of my cock and rubbed it against his entrance, hissing at the throb that rocked through me. I wanted him now. I started to push inside, groaning at the tight heat wrapped around the tip. Kyle's eyes shot open and he gasped, right hand frantically groping for-for-Stan grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together, a gesture so sweet I nearly forgot what I was doing.

Kenny's long whine as he lowered onto Stan's cock reminded me quickly, however, and I began to push into my little Jew, who writhed and gasped and tensed and oh god, was it good. I grabbed his hips and all but begged him, "Let me move please let me take you say it's okay please babe say its okay-"

Kyle wrapped his legs around my waist tightly, shaking his head frantically and quelling my incessant babbling. Kenny was groaning beside me, bouncing like a pro and having the time of his life and I was waiting. For. Kyle.

Stan turned his head, breath coming in pants as he lustily watched his super-best, who was still squirming under me. Breathlessly, he ordered me, "Pump his cock."

Couldn't hurt. I did so, still waiting waiting waiting for the okay. I felt him relax around me and I rained kisses on his face, trying to urge him to let me fuck him.

At length, he cracked open his eyes, inches from my own, and tearfully whispered, "Go."

I went. I pulled out and thrust back in powerfully, eliciting a low wail from my lover, but I couldn't stop. The sensation was-Stellar. I moaned outright, thrusting again, reaching up to fist my hand in his hair and pressed him further down onto me, fucking him so thoroughly he wouldn't stay still, legs tightening and loosening and falling to the bed and wrapping around me again. His spare hand found its way to my back, pushing up my shirt to claw at my shoulders.

I lasted three or four minutes before I exploded, moaning into my Jew's ear and collapsing on top of him. He continued to squirm under me for a fee minutes, but fell still to watch the pair beside us. I pulled out lazily and rested my cheek on his thin chest to watch as well.

They worked better than we had. They had a rhythm, Kenny rocking, Stan thrusting and pumping his cock in time. It was impressive-erotic. Ken tossed his head back and gave a long moan, slamming his hips down and grinding. He came in spurts, a choked sound falling from his lips as he burst over Stan's chest.

The blond fell over onto his side with a groan, eying Stan's red, still-hard cock with an exhausted annoyance. Following his example, I moved to the side of my tiny lover, only to remember in looking at him that he hadn't finished either. I cleared my throat, embarrassed at my poor performance.

Kyle merely curled into Stan, pushing himself up shakily to kiss him chastely, pulling back to smile crookedly at him. The noirette turned on his side and they shared a long, lingering kiss, hands drifting to stroke each other. My Jew broke the kiss to hide his face in his super-best's chest but didn't stop the movement or the small, pleased sounds he emitted, and soon he spilled over the hippie's hand and the hippie did the same.

Cuddling up to Stan's other side, Ken smirked up at me. "You suck, dude. Don't get so over excited." I frowned at him, but was distracted by the faint music I'd failed to take note of in the last hour.

"Hippie, your dyke sister is home." I muttered, flopping down exhaustedly next to Kyle.

Stan shook his head, snorting derisively. "Shelley only plays her music like that when she's masturbating. She's got Junjo Romantica blasting in her ears, trust me." he assured us, basking in the affection he was receiving.

It looked nice, admittedly. I started to just ignore it, but why should I? It's not any more faggy than what we just did, so why the hell not? I curled up behind Kyle, wrapping an arm around his waist and sighing against his neck. We sat in a comfortable silence for quite a while, long enough I was ready to pass out.

"I call first shower." Kyle announced into Stan's chest.

Stan and I groaned at this, but Kenny chirped contentedly, "I call showering with Kyle!"

Before Stan could say a word, I grumbled, "Why don't we all get in?"

We didn't fit, but it was fun anyway. Especially watching Kyle's face when he realized he had semen inside him.

OoO

_So anyway. I dunno how quickly this will be updated, but I'll try. I hope you don't mind the POV change. Don, you can review if you want, I won't bite your head off._

_**QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS? REVIEW!**_


	4. Chapter 4-Playing Nice

_Hey guys._

**Playing Nice**

"No pictures." Kyle offered immediately. "At all."

Kenny pouted, but relented just as quickly, nodding and jotting it down. Carman tapped the notebook and muttered, "No scat," looking satisfied when the words were written down in the blond's surprisingly neat pen.

The redhead scowled, displeased to be presented with yet another thing he was unknowledgeable of. "What's scat?" he asked, sounding a tad whiny. Stan leaned over to cup his hands around his ear and whisper an explanation, prompting a disgusted exclamation.

Leaning back, Stan listed off, "No knives, no fire, no blood, no whips, no kids, no animals, no sounding, no rape play." he paused in thought. "No choking, either."

The blond rolled his eyes, tore out the page, crumpled it up and threw it away. He removed another page much more carefully from his red spiral bound notebook and folded it in half twice, creating four neat sections, at the top of which he wrote down their names in all caps. _KENNY, STAN, KYLE, CARTMAN_. Under his name, he jotted down, 'No pedophilia, no knives, no blood, no zoophilia, no fire, no scat.' Under Stan's, he wrote the same thing, adding whips, sounding, rape play, and choking.

"Anything else?"

The noirette thought a moment. "No watersports."

Kyle didn't know what that was, but he was a little unnerved that it wasn't written down under Kenny's name, too. The blond turned to Cartman. "What about you, fatass?"

He studied the page briefly. "No scat." he repeated, waiting for Kenny to write it down before he went on. "No zoophilia. No kiddies."

The blond, pen poised to continue, prompted, "And?"

Cartman shrugged. "I'm good."

The other three looked at him for a moment, intrigued and a bit frightened, but that was what this was about, right?

"Ky?"

"No photography." he reminded the blond. "If Stan won't do it, I won't." Ken copied Stan's list over. "No biting. No diapers. No double penetration. No face-slapping. No spitting. I don't want anyone to pee on me."

Ken snorted. "That's 'watersports', sweetheart, already written down. Why no biting?"

The redhead shrugged, uncomfortable, unwilling to hold eye contact. "I dunno."

They let it slide. Kenny lovingly folded the page back, then wrote in all caps, _HARD LIMITS_. "This is written in pencil." His voice was soothing and quiet, his eyes on his hands as he set the page aside. "So we can come back to it. Take things off, add them, et cetera. Now, let's talk about the fun stuff. Let's go around in a circle... Three times, let's say, and say something we wanna do or that we're into. Think a bit on the short term side of things, nothing that needs a lot of preparation or training. I'll go first. I want to try proper bondage, all four limbs immobile. Stan?"

The teen in question looked a bit put on the spot. He blushed slightly, and glanced down as he forced out quickly, "I have a, uh, _afootfetish.._."

Kenny looked approving, jotting down 'foot fetish' under 'bondage'. Cartman seemed a bit on the shy side as well, but didn't hide his face as he informed the group, "I like cum play."

"What's that?" the redhead asked, looking the slightest bit disturbed. Instead of getting an answer, he was merely prompted to give a suggestion as well. At length, and with a great deal of deliberation, he ambiguously answered, "Worship." Ken decided to write it down and interrogate him later.

The blond suggested pet play and mentioned an insertion fetish. Stan suggested sex games and orgasm denial. Cartman suggested collaring and humiliation. Kyle sheepishly offered 'more roleplaying' and, to a fair bit of surprise, cross dressing. The list, all in all, was impressive, and, to say the least, sounded fun.

"Let's talk long term." Kenny's voice had gone soft again, as though he were trying to soothe wild animals. Apt. "Just, the biggest fantasy we can work towards that you're okay with sharing. Personally, my goal for this is to see all of you exploring each other and yourselves, alright? What about you, Cartman?"

The brunette smirked, laughing at a private joke. "I want Kyle to suck my balls. No, wait!" he cackled, slapping his knee with his meaty hand. "I want him to _beg me for permission_ to suck my balls!"

Scandalized, Kyle's jaw dropped, his cheeks burning red as his hair in anger. "FUCKING _FATASS_!" he screeched, launching himself at the fatass in question. Ken giggled at the sight of the tiny Jew on top of the much larger teen, beating his broad chest with his little fists while Cartman squirmed and whined, but the attacker's superbest just sighed, reached over, grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him off the bigot.

Scowling disapprovingly down at the redhead fuming in his lap, Stan offhandedly remarked, "_I_ want Kyle to learn to keep his temper!" followed by a sharp smack to the Jew's thigh.

Ken nodded seriously, ignoring that the comment was meant in jest. "He_ is_ our primary sub." Stan locked eyes with the blond, his annoyance melting into a smile. Wrapping his arms around the Jew's waist, he snuggled him, obviously very pleased by this notion.

Kyle didn't seem to have a complaint, either, resting his hands on his best friend's arms. "I want to learn how to make you guys happy." His simple declaration was followed by a hard glare towards his rival. "_'You guys'_ being Ken and Stan, NOT the fucking fatass. I want to make THEM happy, not you!"

Cartman positively snarled, crudely gripping his package. "_I_ want to make your smart mouth useful for something, fucking faggot!"

The pair's angry stare off was interrupted by Stan's chuckling. "You realize that you basically just said you want Kyle to suck you off, then called him a faggot, right?" He snorted. Just like that, the animosity was forgotten and they were discussing plans once again.

The redhead pointed to the page, forgotten on the ground between them. "What's cum play?" Again, no one bothered answering him, Stan in particular remembering the pee incident and thinking that this bitch fit could only be worse.

"So which should we try first?"

"I don't think we should plan it too much."

"What's... What's pet play?"

"Maybe we should do another role play?

"Orgasm denial? Guys?"

"Like Doctor? Or House?"

"What about Cops and Robbers?"

"What's an insertion fetish? It sounds painful."

"Man, we haven't played that since we were kids."

"Didn't we keep Butters locked up for a few days?"

"I thought that was when we played Superheroes?"

"_FUCK YOU I AM SHELTERED AND JEWISH SOMEBODY TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK THIS SHIT IS_!"

"_GOOGLE IT YOU FUCKING JEWRAT_!"

OoO

_Just some filler, you guys. If you read these notes, you know that I lost my virginity and my beau went to jail. It came out a few weeks ago that he was cheating. Last week I found out he was also recording me without permission and sending the videos and pictures to his friends. I'm kind of broken up._

_Please, tell me what you want to see. Most suggested kink will be incorporated in the next chapter._

_Don, you can review but I won't respond. It's nothing personal. My mother doesn't want me to speak to you any more. I miss you._

_**QUESTIONS. COMMENTS, CONCERNS? REVIEW!**_


	5. Chapter 5-Playing Philanthropist

_I'm officially bumping them up to an unspecified but older age. Sophomores/Juniors. I'll fix the previous chapters later. I'm not the only one who played philanthropist as a kid, am I?_

**Playing Philanthropist**

The one thing Kyle disliked about being in advanced classes was that he was quite alone in them. Though he loudly and frequently bragged of his superiority over Cartman, who had opted for regular classes, he knew that the brunette was more than smart enough to be there with him and was occasionally bitter that he was not present to challenge him. His AP biology professor, fifty year old Mr. Cummins, like most Monday mornings, was passed out on his desk, glasses neatly placed to the side, assignment on the board. _'Study for your test next time. If you have questions, don't wake me up, email me.'_

Still reeling from all the terms brought up by the rest of his quartet, Kyle deftly 'gave up' on studying nucleotides in favor of getting out his laptop and opening Google. Starting his search with _'cum play'_, however, he was quickly discouraged-no one seemed to have a clear definition. He got everything from _'synonymous with blowjob'_ to _'shemale gang bang'_, which was decidedly unhelpful. Resolving to ask again later, he moved on.

Kyle was more successful with pet play, much to his internal relief. Urban Dictionary informed him, _'Usually sexual roleplaying involving Owner/Puppy, Owner/Kitty, Owner/Pet etc. The main stipulation is that one person is either an "owner" or playing the "owner" of the other person, or the submissive person is a "pet" or playing the "pet" of the dominant.'_

Well. A strict religious upbringing shook its head in disapproval, but he stifled it, still eager to toss aside his inhibitions. A smile stretched his lips as he looked furtively around at the strangers in the classroom. He wondered what pretty Mindy would think about this. He smirked. As he went on to the next definition, orgasm denial, however, his smirk fell. A horrified grimace took its place, and simultaneously, his pants tightened immeasurably.

_'Ruined orgasm is when a broad slowly cock teases you to the point of orgasm and stops just before you cum leaving your cock throbbing. She does this over and over until your balls ache and you're going insane for sexual relief, then when she is finally ready for the ruined orgasm. She brings you to the edge again only this time just as you are expecting the onset of a tremendously huge orgasm, your balls are tightening up, all she needs to do is stroke up and you're Cumming! Instead she lets go of your cock and you feel an unspeakable pain in your balls that only a man knows because at the point of orgasm instead of that last stroke up, she grabbed your balls and squeezes as hard as she possible can, totally stopping your orgasm, maybe leaving you dribbling a little cum, but either way your both sitting there watching your dick get soft as you're left suffering from lack of release and with a severe case of blue balls!'_

Uncomfortably, he placed his jacket in his lap, looking around again. This time, he was less smug and more ashamed, but he couldn't place why. With a deep breath, he moved on, but _'insertion fetish'_ didn't yield many results either.

After a moment's hesitation, Kyle decided to text the two boys who suggested the undefined terms. To Cartman, he sent, _'Dude seriously, wtf is cum play?'_ and to Kenny, _'Yo, what's an insertion fetish?'_

Casually, he opened reddit, opening TIL and browsing absently as he awaited a response. A loud beep sounded through the room, causing several students to jump, and the redhead sheepishly waved and turned his phone on silent.

Cartman had responded. _'It means I wanna cover you with my cum and make you lick it off my fingers and smear it on your face.'_

He stared at his phone, shell-shocked, cheeks red, stomach clenched. Crossing his legs tightly, he jumped when the phone in his hand vibrated with Kenny's response.

_'i want 2 put things inside of u'_

Then another, _'like toothbrushes mrkers botles cucumbers hairbrushes baseballbats & other stff'_

"Baseball bats?" he exclaimed, ducking his head when the class turned to look at him. Ignoring the stares, he typed the same question to Ken, receiving a smiley face in return.

Finally, he sent a text back to Cartman, too. _'Gross.'_

_'I'll drink pineapple juice, babe.'_

_'I'm not letting you cum on me.'_

_'You want it.'_

Maybe he did.

OoO

AP Biology, then Spanish four, then AP World, AP Art History, then AP Calculus, then AP Lit and finally, lunch. After spending several hours with only the company of kids he didn't know well and Wendy, Kyle was always grateful to wander into the back of the library and collapse on the couch between Ken and Stan.

A chorus of hellos rose from the group, earning a disapproving stare from the librarian. Kyle looked to Cartman, who winked and licked his lips, and then to Kenny, who offered him an animalistic grin, and finally to Stan, who looked like he wanted a hug.

"Hi." the redhead muttered, smiling weakly at them. Ken clasped his shoulder and smirked at the other two.

"Can I steal the resident Jew for a minute?" the blond requested, getting a shrug and a nod, and as Kyle was hefted to his feet and dragged out of the little dusty library by his wrist, he inwardly lamented that his opinion on the matter hadn't even been considered.

But he didn't complain. It was sort of... Exciting.

OoO

Maybe I really shouldn't have done it, but no harm no foul, yeah? I'm just not a patient man, never have been, never will be, so as I tugged Kyle behind me in a desperate search for a private nook, I mentally inventoried my pockets. All gamers know how to check their inventory, as my brother likes to say.

A couple inches of red yarn, three dimes and a quarter, a wallet with an ID, two condoms and fifteen bucks, a small wrench, a tube of Chapstick, a gum wrapper... Chapstick would work. I wrapped my fingers around the tube, clutching it tightly as a manic grin stretched my lips. I stopped suddenly in the middle of the near empty hallway, turning to my prey with my best attempt at innocent. "Ky?"

He hmm'd to show he was listening, gazing absently around the hallway as though trying to figure my plan from our location. "Trust me?" I prompted. His eyebrows scrunched together and his confused green eyes met mine as he nodded.

"Brilliant." I shoved him into the boy's bathroom, raising my finger to my lips in the _'shhh' _gesture as I followed him. He, like most, hated the school's bathrooms. They were filthy and damp and smelled like pot and piss, but honestly, my bedroom wasn't that much better, so I didn't mind. I drew him close and leaned down to kiss him, manipulating his inexperienced lips under me. Tightening my grip on his hips, I nibbled my way across his jaw, fighting off a smile at the way his hands clenched in my shirt. I adored this, feeling like I owned him, like I'm his anchor and his ship and the ocean around him...

I bit my ginger's earlobe, relishing in his gasp and his angry smack to my chest. "I wanna put something inside you." I whispered hotly in his ear, earning a snort in return.

"You want to have sex in a bathroom?" he demanded, derisive, and I shook my head, looking around at the dirty floor and piss stained walls.

"No. Well, yes, I wanna have sex everywhere, all the time, but I meant something else." Kyle cocked a brow at me in question, but I drew him in again, so all he could see was my chest, and reached back into my pocket for the chap stick, holding it tightly as I fell as gracefully as possible to my knees.

The redhead gasped as I nuzzled the bulge in his jeans. "Not here!" he whisper-shouted in a panic, cringing as I slid his jeans down and then his boxers, exposing his pretty little cock to the open air.

"Just for a second." I muttered against the base of his dick, indulging in a quick inhale of that beautiful smell lingering there, a mix of musk and clean cotton and Kyle. I didn't particularly feel like having it down my throat, especially since I wasn't planning on tasting his cum, so I did the bitch thing and just played with the head as my hands crept up to the Jew's bony ass. Brushing my knuckles against his entrance earned a fist in my hair, and I looked up to find him hiding his face in his shoulder, panting and shaking just slightly with the effort to stay quiet.

With a devious grin, I gave a particularly hard suck as I aligned the tube with my slut-to-be's asshole, shoving it in hard enough to get a harsh yell from Kyle, but hopefully not hard enough to do damage.

His cock was ripped from my lips as he stumbled away, eyes wide with horror, looking quite ridiculous with his pants around his ankles. "Surprise!" I announced smugly as I got to my feet. "Buttsex."

Kyle's surprise quickly turned to anger, much to my amusement, as he yanked up his pants and visibly urged himself not to touch his ass. "What the FUCK was that?" he demanded with a hint of a whimper. I shrugged in mock ignorance, grabbing his hand and pulling him back outside. I checked the clock on the wall-we'd been gone less than seven minutes in total.

Indignant as he was, Kyle didn't gather his wits enough to say anything until we were almost back at the library. "Wait, am I supposed to leave it in?" he questioned, trying to sound angry. It came out more intrigued than anything. I nodded, smacking his ass quickly and glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. I caught Craig's eye down the hall and winked.

"Yup." I leaned in to whisper. "And if I even _think_ you might've taken it out before I take it out tonight, you're going to get a spanking."

He bit his lip and it was wonderful.

OoO

I was going insane. I could barely feel it inside me at all but I _knew_ it was there and that was enough to drive me wild. Who would have ever expected to find me, Kyle Broflovski, resident goody-two-shoes Jew, in the middle of theater 3, sitting at a table with all three of his best friends, with an aching hard on from a one-minute blowjob and a... Something in his ass?

I was staring at the screen showing a recording of The Actor's Nightmare as though my life depended on it, hands clenched into fists on the table in front of me as Kenny, blatantly facing away from the screen and watching me with a shadowed, perverse smirk, rubbed his feet against mine, teasing me relentlessly with his little laugh and his suggestive looks. I was just miserable, sex aching, skin tingling, mind everywhere but on the performance.

_"Mustn't complain, Willie. There's muck in the bottom of everyone's garbage can_," the girl who might have been Ophelia said onscreen.

A heavy hand fell on my knee and I jumped, looking up at the noirette whom had placed it there. "Stan?" I whispered, hardly able to see his face in the low light. I received a squeeze in return and I was sure I was going to die then and there.

My super best let go of me, reaching across my lap to grab Cartman's hand and set it on my lap as well. Soon, they were both caressing my thighs, trailing fingers and teasing towards my crotch. My breath stuttered. Kenny, backlit by the screen, caught on quickly, and though I couldn't see his face, I thought I saw a flash of his teeth as he leaned forward to whisper, "Don't make a sound."

Oh, yes, _sir._

_"The church needs its Saints and school children have got to have their heroes to look up to, don't you all agree?"_

Cartman, predictably, was the first to grab my bits, large palm cupping me and gyrating against me. I bit my lower lip hard, fighting off a moan as the fatass and Stan began to alternate between touching my sex and pinching my inner thighs. I was visibly shaking, but I determinedly fixed my eyes on the screen once more.

_"Women should be struck regularly like gongs!"_ I was so close, balls tightening, hips fighting to stay still, lips fighting to stay closed. The dark of Ken's face seemed to be mocking me.

_"Friend, be not afraid of your office-" _

I was right there, so close, so close so close so close, everything ached with want, I didn't care that anyone in the room who broke really looked at us would see me this way, I wanted release. And maybe I wanted them to look.

_"Goodbye, Willie."_

_"Goodbye, Elyot."_

_"Goodbye, Hamlet."_

_"Goodbye, Sir Thomas."_

_"-you send me to God."_

My entire body shuddered like a branch in a storm, hips jerking forward once as I came all over myself, in my pants. Shock, revulsion, shame-it hit me like a ton of bricks. I gasped for breath as silently as possible.

_"BEHOLD-the head of Sir Thomas Moore!"_

_"Oh, I wish I weren't blind and could see that, Willie. Oh well, no matter. It's still been another happy day. Pause, smile, wrinkles nose, pause, picks nit from hair, pause, pause, wiggles ears, all in darkness, utterly useless, no one can see her. She stares ahead. Count two. End of play."_

I watched numbly as everyone came back out onto the stage for a bow, apart from poor George the Accountant, dead on the floor. In that moment, I would have gladly traded places with him.

Then, then... Cartman leaned down and purred in my ear, "Such a good boy." That was enough.

OoO

The walk home was long and uncomfortable, each step accentuated by the discomfort of my soiled boxers rubbing against my sensitive skin. I walked under the arm of a positively beaming Kenneth C. McCormick, and though I started the walk angry and embarrassed, more praise from him and Stan won me over by the time we reached the Cartman residence.

Normally, I'd protest more to being in my rival's home, but he had the distinct advantage of a basement to himself, nearly soundproof. Sure, the lights were dim and it was uncomfortably cold, but there was all sorts of neat things stored down there and a finished corner with a couch and a rug and a TV, and we were in highschool. That was pretty cool, even if most of the rest of the room was taken up by a mountain of boxes.

I looked sideways at Cartman, who was staring straight back, obviously waiting for something. I shrugged and smiled sheepishly, deciding that it would be okay to just do what he wants. "Dude, can I borrow some clothes, please?"

Cartman raised an eyebrow at me, a devious smirk appearing on his lips. "You should certainly call me 'sir', especially seeing how I've taken you in out of the rain!"

Oh.

"Th-thank you, sir." I stuttered, quickly wrapping my arms about myself and shivering as though I HAD just been out on the streets, crying and shaking with the cold until a strange man invited me into his car and took me home... This was easy and familiar, our games of pretend.

"McCormick." Cartman addressed the blond with a tip of the head. He snapped to attention, hands behind his back as he gave a shallow bow and a muttered _'Lord Cartman'_. I dropped my eyes to my feet as the lord went on. "Clean the street child. I will not have such filth in my home. Marsh? Prepare my chambers."

Stan began to hurry away, but halted at the bottom of the steps. "Erm, sir? I do believe that your mother is home-uh, staying with you."

I glanced up at the brunette, who was scowling. "I'll take care of it."

I frowned in mock confusion, looking up at the blond who grabbed my wrist and was urging me upstairs to ask loudly enough for Cartman to hear me, "Why does he need his bed made?"

OoO

I really liked this game, and I loved the shy, childish personality Kyle had picked for it. He stared around in awe at the 'luxurious' home, asking if the candle holders were real gold and such. It was cute, believable even. "This bathroom is _huge_!" he exclaimed as he was lead into it, gasping and commenting on how cool it was that there was a separate shower and bathtub. We'd been instructed to use the master bath-presumably, Liane had had been encouraged to go out.

Trying to make sure my face was blank (and sort of trying to act like Alfred), I sternly ordered the boy to strip. He blinked, looking up at me with a precious expression of confuzzlement. "Sure. Shouldn't you leave first, mister?"

I dipped my head as though in greeting and shut the door. "You may call me McCormick, or Kenneth if you so please. And no, I have been instructed to clean you thoroughly in anticipation of the night you are expected to spend with Lord Cartman."

Kyle balked as I began to strip, shyly backing away. "I-I, uh, spend a night with him?" he stuttered, cheeks reddening. He was becoming quite the actor. I nodded, hiding a smirk as I went to unzip my jeans as he gasped, perhaps a bit on the melodramatic side. "You mean, like..." he lowered his voice, "Sex?"

I nodded coolly, kicking off my dirty off brand converse and dropping my draws. "Indeed, sex. You did not think that a night here would be free, did you?" I laughed.

Deftly, he gestured over his shoulder with his thumb and dead panned, "I can go."

Fucking cute. Shamelessly, I set my hands on my hips, drawing, as I had hoped, his attention to my crotch. "Oh." the redhead gasped, directing his gaze to the ceiling. "I'm uncomfortable." he told me conversationally as I approached, refusing to look me in the eye. He kept in character beautifully and for some reason that fact alone turned me on like crazy. Kyle had always been one to take everything too seriously.

"Mister!" he squeaked as I started to tug off his soiled clothes. But poor little street child-I stripped him naked, made him bend over the counter so I could 'inspect him for master', and put him in the shower with me, a nude older stranger. A nude older stranger who fingered him with soap and asked him probing questions.

"Have you ever been with a man before, young man?" I whispered into his ear as I guided him to brace himself against the shower wall, water beating down on his back. The young man in question whimpered and shook his head, clenching his fists and causing a ripple of motion down his back, over the dips of his ribs.

Running my fingers over his entrance, I growled in his ear, "Maybe I should change that." Relishing in the sweet sounds falling from his lips as I violated his 'virgin' ass with my fingers, I started rubbing myself against him, his ass, between his legs, setting it on his back, making him feel how much I wanted him. I hit something inside him and froze, panicking for a second before I remembered the chap stick. I laughed, asking if he was ready to have it taken out. It took a few tries, and I was starting to get nervous, but it came out, no worse for wear. I tossed it outside the shower with my free hand, continuing to stretch and finger my visibly relieved Jew.

Pulling my fingers out and setting the tip of my cock at his stretched hole, grabbing his hips tightly, I leaned down to bite his shoulder, hard. He cried out. I smiled. "Beg me for it."

Ky squirmed in discomfort, pushing back against me. "Please?" he tried, prompting a snort from my throat. If he thought he could get away with that, he had another thing coming. Several long moments passed before he spoke again, during which I continued to rub against him. "I-I dunno how." he finally confessed.

Well. "Tell me what you want!"

"This!"

"You have to be more specific!" I reached down to stroke his cock, inwardly delighting in how frustrated and desperate he looked. He looked close to crying with it by the time he decided what to say.

"I want anal intercourse, to orgasm, in the shower, with you, _right fucking now_!"

Close enough. Kyle cried out and bit his hand as I shoved my way inside him, taking up a harsh pace. I felt bad, sort of, especially as he whimpered and shook and scrabbled for hold against the smooth tile walls, but the friction of his tight hole around me was more than enough to compensate for my guilt. He'd need to learn how to take it, anyway, if he wanted to be my sub. Fortunately for my little red headed slut, though, I was a teenager and very easy to please-it was over before I even realized it was our first time together.

Recovering, I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him tightly against me and sighing into his neck. I really felt bad for sharing such a special moment with him under such circumstances, but as soon as I fell out of him, he turned around in my arms and shoved his lips against mine. There was a whisper of, "I love you," and then he backed away and said, "Mister? Are... Are we done?"

_/end part one. Happy New Year's, guys. Btw, if anyone who has these kinks and would like to elaborate on them for me, I'd appreciate it. Dedicated to you, Don. :P _

_**QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS? REVIEW!**_


	6. Chapter 6-Playing Philanthropist (P 2)

_I… I just dunno. I've been in an erratic mood lately. I kinda forced this, I'm sure you can tell. There will probably be a philanthropist part 3, but not necessarily next chapter. Love you all! :3_

**Playing Philanthropist (Part 2)**

There was a long, awkward pause when the blond lead our guest from the room. Wordlessly, I started looking around at the towers of boxes. It was truly magnificent. There were couches, bags of clothes, grandfather clocks, an old birdcage, and easily dozens of boxes. Such is the basement of a spoiled, fickle child and his shopaholic mother. Had they been poor, I had no doubts in my mind that they would be on that hoardering show.

I thought I recalled there being mattress back in the corner, and sho'nuff, there it was, backed a foot or so into the cardboard jungle against the far wall. I started to drag it out, sighing inwardly at Cartman's incessant laziness. It was less heavy and more just big, though, so I didn't mind it too much.

"Let me."

I was shouldered aside and stumbled back a little, watching with a small amount of awe as the fatass started on the chore himself, dragging the old, somewhat lumpy-looking mattress into the middle of our open space. I blinked in amazement, flinching instinctively as the weight of the object thumped loudly against the cold concrete ground. The brunette turned and stalked to one of the nearby boxes, deftly tearing it open and digging out several old blankets and quilts.

He shot me one of his patently charming smiles. "Help me out, damn lazy hippie!" he laughed. This was not a Cartman I saw often, so playful. Like children playing parachute, we snapped the blankets into the air, guiding their steady descent onto our new bed. Layer after layer, a soft nest was built, but that awkward silence persisted. Our movers and shakers otherwise occupied, we didn't know what to do with ourselves.

The brunette sat slowly, patting the space beside him in an invitation I was a bit hesitant to take. I bit my lip, plopping gracelessly down beside him.

Neither of us ever claimed to be tactful.

"Have we even kissed yet?"

"I don't think so."

It surprised me, at first, how soft he was. His lips, his shoulders, his thick arms around my back. It took me a moment to reconcile his cruel persona with his form. I remembered why we called him fatass. He was better than he was when we were kids, yeah, but still fluffy. I sank into him, further shocked by how inviting it was to be pressed into, essentially, a giant, warm teddy bear. I didn't protest being led to lie on my back, determinedly not giving up my hold on his lips and we collapsed into each other. He tasted like spearmint gum.

I let him have control, obeying urges to take off my shirt without a word, letting him nibble and suck at me. I say let-I could've overpowered him, probably, but I was quite interested in this oddly gentle side of the great brute. It was as though he had been given a new toy. Not like with Kyle-with Kyle he'd been greedy and desperate, as though presented with water after days in the desert. He grabbed, took, bruised and ravaged the redhead, but I, he took the time to examine.

Tracing his fingers over my abdomen, Cartman glanced up at me, as though gauging my reaction. I smiled. He smiled back mechanically, then focused his attention on my pants. I was _maybe_ a little uncomfortable with the situation, but I was a teenage boy and someone wanted to touch my dick, so I didn't protest as I was stripped naked.

He skimmed his fingers over my erection, only at half-mast. Absentmindedly, he inquired softly, "Do you think I can get the Jew to suck my balls?"

I patted him on the head, trying to hide a snigger. "Maybe one day." I assured him, trying to match his whimsical tone.

OoO

I have a set of friends outside of these guys, other ghetto kids from the same side of the train tracks as me.. I let myself relax more with them. I could never tell Kyle, but I secretly love just letting go, talking like I'm from the hood, sagging, smoking pot and bullshitting with my homies. I carry my wigger card secretly, yes, but proudly none the less.

Every now and then, I am posed with a question. "Main, why you hang wit dem crackas?"

I usually just grin at them and shrug and say, "Iono man, they cool. Y'know what 'm sayin'?"

In truth, it's these moments.

Kyle and I paused at the top of the steps, staring down at the pair below us on the newly made up bed, Stan doing his best at serious and Cartman cuddling the jock's legs and staring at his dick like he was in love with it. I really didn't know what to say, but that's never stopped me before. "_Master Cartman_." I drawled.

He sat up quickly, a scowl twisting his features. He eyed us up and down, both soaking wet, Kyle in a towel (his clothes in the wash) and me with my pants thrown hastily back on. "Strip and kneel!" he barked, pointing to a patch of concrete just past the bed.

I winked at him and he flushed. We both knew that I'd been his best friend too long to be fooled by any attempt at covering his embarrassment. I let it slide. Naked is fun.

OoO

I stood in front of my harem, quite pleased with myself. Just the thought that these toys were mine and mine alone was enough to make my pants tighten and mouth water. I started running through what I wanted to do to them. "Has our guest been cleaned thoroughly?" I asked idly. Kenny's shit eating grin was all the answer I needed.

I stalked over to the cocky blond, grabbing his chin and tilting his head back. "Did you fuck our guest?" I demanded, voice lowering. Kyle blushed and again, my answer. I tightened my grip. "Did I give you permission to fuck my new toy?"

Ken shook his head, lips parting, no doubt to offer me an excuse. I grabbed his lower lip between my thumb and forefinger. "Did you cum in him?"

"Yessir." He winked at me again. Part of me wanted to laugh.

"Stanley, why don't you fuck your disobedient coworker back into submission? If you do well, I might let you suck my cock later." I was definitely pushing a lot of limits, but this was way too much fun to restrict myself.

OoO

I'd really done in this time. It had been a full year since the last time I subbed and I was a bit nervous, to be honest. At Stan's quiet order, I crawled onto the bed, centering myself and looking to him for further orders. His grey eyes were sharp yet soft, not unlike his voice. "Spread your legs for me. Good boy. Clasp your hands together and put them on the mattress above your head. Good."

I turned my head to the side, watching Cartman pull over a chair and urge Kyle to settle into his lap. Stan's fingers brushed across my ass and I inhaled slowly through my nose, so deeply it hurt my chest. "You will be silent." he murmured, moving closer behind me. The tips of his digits touched down on my shoulder blades and he began to slowly scrape them down my back, leaving red lines and a tingling sensation behind. I squirmed just a little, receiving a warning tap on the hip. Clenching some of the blanket in my hand, I focused my eyes on the other half of our group.

Kyle was faced away from me, arms wrapped tightly around the brunette's neck, face buried hidden. He shook and moaned and it only took a moment to figure out why-Cartman was impatiently working fingers into his entrance, thrusts sharp and shallow.

My back was burning and over sensitive by the time Stan stopped. He pulled my hips back and I felt him lean over me, his chest to my back, trailing kisses over my spine. I whimpered just a little and he pulled back, smacking my ass lightly. "Shhh!" he teased with a quiet laugh. "Don't disturb our master."

His kisses trailed lower and lower, over my lower back, my ass cheeks-he bit me here, lapping at the smarting wound slowly. His lips and tongue left me, and I was only disappointed for a second before the warm, wet muscle laved decisively over my entrance. I moaned out loud, the sound echoed by my ginger. For the moment, the noise went unpunished as Stan's hands tightened on my hips and his tongue swirled around the tight ring of muscles he was focusing his attention on.

My poor cock was dripping with precum, hard as rock. I shifted my hips a bit, feeling the starts of climax tighten in my abdomen. The noirette must've sensed it, or maybe just guessed, because he pulled back just barely and growled, "Don't you dare cum."

I whined but tried to bear down on the sensation, biting my lip and looking to Cartman for a distraction from that hot tongue starting to push inside me. His face was the picture of frustration, face a little red as he tried to comfort Kyle. The redhead was trembling, Cartman's manhood halfway inside and impatiently waiting for the go ahead. The redhead shook his head and keened-his partner looking ready to die with need.

Ready to burst, I groaned as Stan pulled back and straightened up. The tightness of my balls and heat in my stomach were getting increasingly hard to ignore as I balanced on the edge of orgasm. You could hear the raven's smirk in his voice when he spoke. "Ready for my cock, Ken?"

Kyle suddenly cried out. I looked over at him and saw that he'd finally gotten it in. He took several deep breaths before he started to move, riding Cartman slowly. His moans and whimpers filled the air in seconds, underscored by the brunette's soft groan and unintelligible whispers. He looked at the boy in his lap as though he were looking into the eyes of an angel, full to bursting with desire and awe.

The unmistakable sound of spitting brought me back to my own activities. The noirette was slicking his cock, I presumed, suddenly insanely excited. I wanted that inside. No, I needed it. I wanted it to ache and I wanted to cum all over Cartman's sheets from the feel of Stan fucking me.

One hand clenched on my hip, Stan pressed the head of his cock to my entrance firmly. "Ready?" he asked again, less sharpness to his tone. I pushed back on him suddenly, crying out as the head of his erection popped inside. I clenched down hard on it instinctively, a spike of burning pain shooting up my spine. I started to push myself up onto my hands, only to be stopped by Stan ordering suddenly, "Stay down!"

I retook position, a long moan pouring from my lips as I was slowly impaled. It hurt deliciously as the teen pressed his pelvis against my ass, fully embedded in me. I clenched and unclenched repeatedly, trying to adjust to the divine feeling of being so full. Fingers brushed against my arousal, teasing the underside cautiously as Stan waited, panting softly.

"Please just fuck me." I whined. Evidently this was all the prompting he needed, because the moment the words left my tongue he pulled out and slammed back in, setting a mercilessly fast pace. The sound of his hips smacking mine was almost louder than his passionate moans. His cock brushed repeatedly against my sweet spot, internalizing my pleasure further. I felt as though I might simply die, I couldn't breathe, every fiber of my being sang with the feeling of being thoroughly fucked. I came hard with a shout, orgasm ripping through my entire body as I jerked helplessly under my assailant, nearly sobbing as wave after wave washed over me.

I went limp, whimpering and boneless as Stan continued to use me brutally. For a moment I thought for sure that he would never stop, but all good things come to an end and eventually he stilled inside me and came with a gasping moan.

He pulled out and collapsed beside me as I fell onto my side and curled up into a ball, grimacing as my arm swept over my mess. Somewhere above us, Kyle giggled, the sound somehow echoing my satiation. I glanced up at him. Seeing him curled up in Cartman's lap (both a little sweaty and smeared with cum), hugging his neck and grinning at me made me laugh, too. I couldn't help it, I was so happy. The giggling subsided, though, and I sat up.

"I'm hungry." I complained.

Cartman groaned irritatedly, gently shoving the redhead off his lap. Stan sighed. "You and your stomach, I swear. Can't you wait?"

I flopped over on my back, pressing the back of my hand to my forehead with a dramatic wail. "No! I'm wasting away to nothing! I'm going to die if I don't eat soon!"

The brunette groaned loudly. Kyle, stretching and smiling sheepishly, offered, "I'm kinda hungry too."

Cartman winked at him. "You should make us some bacon, bitch."

Stan mmmmmm'd as he sat up, a faraway gaze in his eyes. "Bacon sounds amazing."

Kyle just pouted.

OoO

_Read, shlick and be merry. Or something to that effect._

_**QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS? REVIEW!**_


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